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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24631594">What Happened in Vegas</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarnivalMirai/pseuds/CarnivalMirai'>CarnivalMirai</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Politics, Angst, Cheating, Eventual Relationships, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Not by choice, Personal Assistant Katsuki Yuuri, President Victor Nikiforov, Victor is married, not between victor and yuuri</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:48:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,784</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24631594</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarnivalMirai/pseuds/CarnivalMirai</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You once asked me… whether there was someone else I was interested in. Someone who wasn’t Anastasia. And I said no.” Recalled Victor as Yuuri turned to look pitifully at him. “Ask me again.” </p><p>In which Yuuri falls in love with someone he can't have, and Victor falls in love with someone he desperately wants.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Victor Nikiforov/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>238</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What Happened in Vegas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi guys! Sorry for... almost disappearing... I haven't really felt great about posting to AO3 and I really began to resent fandom in general (not YOI!!!) and certain associations I have with fandom have tarnished this experience of writing and uploading for me, but I'm working on it. I've mainly kept my work to the forbidden P (you can find the link pinned on my twitter if you'd like!) so I actually have a lot of backlog which I've not decided whether or not to upload here yet. I'll see how I feel.</p><p>I’m still trying to work on feeling good about posting/just being able to enjoy sharing my work. I’m getting there, bare with me 😭</p><p>Bare My Heart wil be updating soon if you're waiting, and for any of my other series... sorry to keep you waiting, but Animal Crossing and Hannibal have taken over my life LOL. Sorry if you followed my twitter expecting YOI content HAHAHA.</p><p>Without further ado, a oneshot for my lovely supporters on that platform I cannot name!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“When is our next meeting?” Asked Victor as he stalked out of his office, Yuuri following suit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Two p.m today sir, you’re meeting with the Governor of Education, as well as the Minister of Healthcare in about thirty minutes.” Yuuri said, reading off his diary. “Your wife also wants you for late lunch after your meetings.” He added. Victor sighed, rolling his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you tell her I can’t make it, please?” Requested Victor as Yuuri followed him into the elevator. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Err… of course… but sir, your schedule is free and she knows that.” Yuuri said pointedly, gripping his diary. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell her a meeting has come up or something and I can’t make it.” Victor sighed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Yuuri nodded, making a note to pass the message on to the First Lady. “Out of a professional curiosity, sir, what will you be doing after your next meeting?” Asked Yuuri as they got out of the elevator and headed for the conference room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t decided yet.” Murmured Victor, brow creased with frustration. “Not going to lunch, that’s for sure.” He opened the door to the conference room, and as expected, they were the first ones there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ahh-- okay… I‘ll tell her now you’ll be busy.” Yuuri said as he took a seat beside Victor. Victor removed his glasses, sighing heavily as he buried his face in his hands before sweeping his fingers through his fringe to push it back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your schedule is free after this meeting, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If yours is free then so is mine, sir.” Yuuri reminded him with a smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you mind if I steal some of your time then?” Asked Victor, to which Yuuri blinked in surprise, head whipping to face Victor as a dusty rose blush rose to his cheeks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh— err…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Actually, I shouldn’t have asked that, sorry.” Murmured Victor. “Your free time is yours.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No! No, it’s okay, it just… surprised me is all.” Yuuri said. “Of course, what for?” Victor shrugged. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just need to get out of the office.” Victor sighed. “Because I swear if I have to see these walls for another day straight I’m gonna go crazy.” Yuuri gave him a sympathetic smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If there’s something you’d like to talk about I’m more than willing to listen, sir.” Yuuri reassured, just as Victor’s phone chimed. Yuuri looked at the notification. “Ahh— it’s Anastasia.” Victor sighed again. “She’s insistent about lunch.” A frustrated groan tumbled from Victor’s lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess I’ll be spending my time at lunch after this, then.” Murmured Victor. “I guess you get your free time back.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll let her know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri had been Victor’s personal assistant for over four years. Victor was young for a president, at the ripe age of thirty, he was married (albeit not happily by the sounds of it), and voted in three years ago. He was young, handsome, and Yuuri more than likely spent more time admiring him than working for him. The President was objectively attractive-- tall and broad, with silky silver locks that Yuuri was dying to run his hands through. Naturally, Yuuri never actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>expected </span>
  </em>
  <span>anything romantic to come of their relationship— first of all, Victor was married, and secondly, their relationship was strictly professional. It was just one of those dumb high school crushes. Or the equivalent of, at least. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good job we have business in Vegas next month.” Huffed Victor. “It’s a change of scenery from here at least.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That bad, huh?” Mused Yuuri, to which Victor flashed a tired smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have no idea.” Murmured Victor as he kept an eye on the clock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will Anastasia be joining us in Vegas?” Victor shook his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, she’s opted to stay behind.” Victor said, just as four more people walked through the conference room doors. “Perfect, you’re all on time.” That smile, fake yet professional, returned to Victor’s lips. “Let’s begin.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The car is waiting outside.” Yuuri said as he packed up Victor’s notes. “Shall I leave these on your office desk?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ahh, yes please.” Smiled Victor. “You can wait for me in my office, hopefully lunch won’t be too long an affair.” He said as he stood up, pushing his chair under the table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not necessary, I’ll just head back to my office.” Mumbled Yuuri, following Victor out of the door and to the elevator. “I need to get ahead and start filling your calendar for next month.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh great, keeping me busy next month too.” Chuckled Victor. “Well, feel free to use my office space if you wish. I keep all the good coffee in the second drawer down, help yourself. Hopefully I’ll be back within the hour.” Yuuri nodded as the elevator reached his floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If there’s anything you need drop me a text and I’ll sort it.” Yuuri said, getting out of the elevator. “Have a nice lunch.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuuri contemplated Victor’s offer. With a sigh, he returned to his own office to pick up his things before heading to make himself comfortable in Victor’s office instead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d never worked in here before, just come in a few times to drop things off for Victor, or pass him papers to sign, or to tidy his desk. Yuuri closed the door behind him and sat down in Victor’s office chair. The back was high, high enough that Yuuri’s head didn’t reach the top as he pulled the chair in. Victor had a collection of Swarovski pens in every style and colour one could imagine, all arranged neatly in a pen holder beside his work space. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And when Yuuri opened the second drawer, sure enough, Victor had all the nice coffee stashed away. Yuuri put down his laptop and stored away Victor’s things in his drawers before picking out a sachet of coffee to make. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri returned to the desk with a mug of luxury instant coffee. He sat down and opened his laptop, preparing to fill Victor’s calendar. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Victor… </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri got the impression that Victor wasn’t getting on so well in his personal life. He was spending countless hours at the office, avoiding going home for as long as he possibly could. He’d stay well past his hours— even the President had to go home at some point, right? But Victor would stay well into the night, and Yuuri had no idea why. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He supposed it wasn’t his place to pry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*** </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re late.” Anastasia sighed when Victor finally arrived for lunch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Unfortunately this was not on my calendar until about an hour ago.” Murmured Victor. “Hardly my fault, I don’t think.” Anastasia huffed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should hire a PA who actually adds events appropriately to your calendar.” She scowled, much to Victor’s dismay. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s hardly Mister Katsuki’s fault if you text an hour before hand demanding a lunch slot.” Sighed Victor heavily. “Let’s just order, I have to be back at work soon.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Surely even the President can take a break?” Anastasia asked, picking up her menu. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Running a country isn’t a nine to five job, Nastya.” Victor reiterated-- honestly, as the First Lady, she should know that best. But fortunately for Victor, being the First Lady was not much more than a title, meaning he could go about his work without Anastasia on his back at work as well as at home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re hardly home.” She frowned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like I said-- not a nine to five job.” Victor was already eager to get this lunch over with. “Besides, you had the option to move into the White House with me. You just declined it.” Uttered Victor under his breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I much prefer the comfort of my own home.” She grumbled behind gritted teeth, brows knitted together in frustration. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then it’s hardly my fault if I’m not home, is it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We had an arrangement!” Anastasia argued. “You’d be spending weekends at home </span>
  <em>
    <span>at least.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She huffed petulantly, to which Victor rolled his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, we did. And I’ve honoured our agreement by coming home on weekends and foregoing residency at the White House already to appease your pleading.” Victor bit back, the sentence notably more sophisticated than usual, likely out of spite. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It has been two weekends since you came home.” She pointed out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I work long hours-- I can’t just come home whenever I want to.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had been sat there for almost twenty minutes, and all that had happened was Anastasia had nagged and nagged about Victor’s lack of presence recently. He buried his face in his hands and let out a sigh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t sigh at me.” Anastasia scolded. “I’m trying to tell you how I feel.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look, Nastya.” Victor sighed, for what felt like the one hundredth time that day. “We’ve had this conversation more times than I can count. I can’t just snap my fingers and </span>
  <em>
    <span>bam-- </span>
  </em>
  <span>all my work is done. If I could, believe me, I would.” Honestly, this woman could make him day drink. Victor had no idea why he’d even married her, apart from for image, convenience, and a bit of force. Can’t have a President without a First Lady, after all. She was someone chosen out by his father many years ago, when he first began to climb the political ladder, and he could deal with it, until he’d hired a new PA-- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yuuri. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri was sweet, a little bit shy, but never failed to do his job properly. He followed Victor across the country, into every meeting, into every conference. He planned and prepared Victor’s calendar, never failing to add each event as it came up. Part of Victor wondered what Yuuri’s personal life was like. Maybe he was married or had a partner? Victor didn’t know, he didn’t pry either. In fact, it was rather difficult for Victor to separate his professional curiosity about Yuuri from his personal fascination. It was no secret that Yuuri was undeniably attractive, with hair that was always neat and glasses that framed his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And now you’re not even listening to me anymore.” Anastasia nagged again. Picking up his phone, Victor sent a text to Yuuri. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To: Yuuri Katsuki</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Please send a car for me. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A reply came in quickly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From: Yuuri Katsuki</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Got it. Will be there in 5. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Work calls.” Lied Victor. “I need to be back at the office. A car will be here in five minutes.” He mumbled, picking at his lunch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But you haven’t even finished lunch.” Anastasia huffed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like I said-- I don’t work a nine to five job.” Reminded Victor as he finished as much of his lunch as possible. “I’ll be home later tonight.” Anastasia rolled her eyes as she watched Victor get up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” She relented with a sigh. “Love you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Love you, too.” Victor mumbled before heading off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he got outside, he opened the back door of the car and climbed in, Yuuri on the other side of the car. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That bad?” Asked Yuuri, somewhat lightheartedly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmh…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps it’s not my place to ask, sir, but would you like to talk about it?” Asked Yuuri. “I’ve noticed that you seem bothered recently.” Victor scoffed, a bitter laugh falling from his lips at the thought of his spouse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Am I that obvious?” He asked under his breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would I still have a job if I said </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Victor snorted, a smile on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you would.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In that case, yes, it’s pretty obvious.” Yuuri said observantly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nastya’s just been very naggy recently, something I do not need on top of running the country.” Victor mused dryly. “And I stay behind at the office so I don’t have to have her nagging when I get home and that leads to me being pestered and the cycle repeats.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Yuuri mumbled dumbly, at a loss for words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t even do much when I stay behind at the office I just stay to avoid going home.” Victor sighed as they pulled up outside the White House. “But today, I do actually have a legitimate reason to be staying behind.” Victor said as Yuuri followed at his heels to his office. “I have to read through the bill proposals so we can start passing them through the house.” Yuuri nodded silently as Victor pushed open the door to his office. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I may…” Victor began after a few moments of silence, “can I ask for your time this evening?” Asked Victor. “You’ll get overtime pay.” He assured Yuuri. “But I think I’ll need help sorting some of the bills.” Yuuri blinked in surprise, but nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, of course.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. I’ll make sure to add your extra hours to the spreadsheet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>———————————————————————</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have let Anastasia know you'll be staying late again.” Yuuri said as he began separating the bits of paperwork Victor had. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t imagine what her next text will be.” Victor laughed dryly as he picked up a pen. “These bills need to be sorted in order of priority, and then I’ll go through them and see what should be discussed and potentially passed.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This one is an income tax bill.” Yuuri said. Victor’s brow quirked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s the proposal?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A proposal for increased taxing of the highest earning brackets.” Yuuri read aloud as Victor contemplated for a second. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Top priority. In fact, pass it here.” Victor held his hand out and Yuuri quietly passed him the file. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor had just finished reading through the particulars of the proposal. With a heavy sigh, he put his pen down, his fingertips massaging his temples. He looked at the clock on the wall— seven p.m. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can go home, if you wish.” Victor smiled as Yuuri sat on the other desk, organising the proposals. “I can finish those off, you should get something and head home. I’ll be doing the same, too.” Victor said, organising the stack of remaining papers. Yuuri swallowed thickly as a rather… </span>
  <em>
    <span>reckless </span>
  </em>
  <span>thought crossed his mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In that case… would you like to join me?” Asked Yuuri. “For dinner. I mean… since… you know…” Yuuri shrugged, his question trailing off as he flirted his gaze to the window. Victor was taken aback by the question, but he couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh…” Victor squeaked dumbly. “Well… I could have something brought up from the kitchen but I’m assuming that’s not what you meant.” Victor mused, somewhat teasingly as Yuuri stuttered, a dusty pink colouring his cheeks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“W-what? N-no that’s not—“ Victor laughed again, and it occurred to Yuuri that he’d never actually seen the President </span>
  <em>
    <span>smile. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was rather refreshing, actually. For as long as Yuuri had worked for him, Victor had always been tense, stern, serious. He bore that professional, organised front, crisp in a three piece wool suit, and Yuuri had rarely seen him deviate from such a façade. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know.” Victor teased. “Call for a car.” Victor said, standing up from his desk chair. “Tell them we’re going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fiola Mare.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>***</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuuri followed like a puppy following his master as they left the office and got into the car waiting for them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Call up the restaurant and request a private suite. Don’t need cameras surrounding my dinner outings.” Victor said to Yuuri. “The number should be in the directory.” Wordlessly, Yuuri nodded and got right to the task. Victor held his breath as Yuuri spoke on the phone-- going anywhere for lunch or dinner that had no private suites was absolutely out of the question. As one could imagine, it was very difficult to eat when all heads were turned to look and cameras were snapping photograph after photograph. Victor was very much a connoisseur of food, and he did not wish for that enjoyment to be tainted by publicity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re preparing it for us as we speak.” Yuuri said as he cut the call. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just realised I didn’t even ask what you liked.” Victor cringed. “I’ll remember next time.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Next time? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yuuri thought. This was the first time he’d accompanied the President to dinner outside of the White House in the several years he had worked for him. Part of Yuuri highly doubted there would be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>next time. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay.” Yuuri smiled. “I’m open to anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>———————————————————————</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Choose whatever you please.” Victor said, sliding a menu across the table to Yuuri. Hesitantly, Yuuri opened the menu, and almost shrieked in alarm at the price tags that came with the dishes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everything’s so… pricey…” Yuuri uttered, cringing at the three figure price tags. Victor chuckled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you process my paycheck every month, Yuuri?” Asked Victor, to which Yuuri nodded. “So choose whatever you want. Dinner is on me, after all.” Yuuri was speechless, but quietly nodded, a tender smile on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you…” Yuuri’s eyes scanned the menu. “Erm… what do you recommend?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anything from the pasta section or the seafood section is a personal favourite.” Victor recommended. “I tend to go for the seafood linguine, but if you’re particularly fond of seafood we can get the tiered seafood platter.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then… I think I’ll have the seafood linguine.” Yuuri said, closing his menu. “Thank you, sir. This is very generous of you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s out of work hours.” Victor chuckled. “You can call me </span>
  <em>
    <span>Victor</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And… you’re welcome. I did keep you past hours, so it’s my treat.” A small smile quirked on his face, lip twitching into a half smile. Yuuri’s heart lurched at Victor’s enchanting smile, a faint fluster blooming across his cheeks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Victor…” The name sounded good rolling off his lips. Yuuri rarely referred to Victor by name. In fact, he’s probably never referred to Victor by his name. “Well, thank you. I appreciate it.” Yuuri smiled. “It’s not often I get to eat a meal that’s home cooked, let alone one that’s luxury.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not good.” Mused Victor. “What do you normally eat when you get home then?” He asked, folding away his menu. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes nothing, sometimes a ready meal. Depends what’s in my fridge.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, in that case, maybe I’ll bring you out to eat more often.” Offered Victor. “Can’t have my personal assistant fainting on the job.” Victor mused teasingly. Yuuri squeaked in surprise. The thought of Victor spending such an astronomical amount of money just taking Yuuri out to eat could make him faint. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y-you don't have to do that!” Yuuri rushes to say. “That’s too much, even just this once is enough.” Assured Yuuri. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You never know, maybe one day I’ll just feel like going for lunch.” Victor shrugged as a waitress came in to collect their menus and take their order. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dinner was, for once, a relaxing affair. Nothing like other dinners Victor had had. Normally they were business dinners, or dinners with Anastasia, both of which Victor could not say were exactly pleasant experiences. But dinner with Yuuri, however, felt much more natural, much less forced. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For once, Victor didn’t have to discuss his job over dinner. Animals, specifically </span>
  <em>
    <span>dogs, </span>
  </em>
  <span>were a hot topic, as was Yuuri’s culture. Victor found out that Yuuri had family back home in Japan, of whom he would send money to monthly to support them. He also discovered that Yuuri was fond of ballet— and perhaps it was in his Russian blood, but so was Victor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was raining heavily, water droplets thumping down from the sky with a splash on the ground as they left the restaurant. Yuuri shivered slightly, opening an umbrella for Victor as they quickly scurried to the car. Water splashed under their shoes, soaking the hems of their pants as Yuuri opened the car door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As per Nastya’s request, I’m going home tonight.” Sighed Victor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to get told off for being late again?” Mumbled Yuuri as they climbed into the car. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Probably. I’ll just drown it out. It’s nothing new.” Victor chuckled lightheartedly, though there was a dimple just above his brow, one that Yuuri noticed often appeared when the President was frustrated. “She’ll probably just pester me about the fact that it’s almost nine o’clock and I didn’t phone to say I’d be home late.” Both Anastasia and Victor seemed to have so many complaints about one another, it made Yuuri wonder why they were married in the first place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Forgive me for being intrusive or prying or stepping out of line,” Yuuri began, “but… I get the impression that she doesn’t respect you a lot.” Yuuri bit his lip, holding his breath as his hands squeezed together in his lap, avoiding Victor’s gaze. Victor lets out a soft breath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was a marriage of convenience.” Murmured Victor. “She was someone my father picked out when I began to climb the political ladder, though I think he’s had this planned long before that.” He explained. “My father has always tried to control what I do and when he found out I was studying politics and not medicine, that already pissed him off. When he started talking about potential spouses and blah blah blah I ended up being lectured about family values and pride and bullshit like that.” Scoffed Victor bitterly. “Can you believe it? Even the President has someone they have to obey.” Yuuri swallowed dryly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. I’m… sorry about that. And… sorry for asking.” Yuuri apologised, feeling a little awkward about the fact that Victor had just opened up about his evidently unhappy marriage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay.” Assured Victor. “I’ve never really spoken about it before because it’s probably the last thing I want to think about. But life just happens, doesn’t it? Can’t always get what we want.” Victor said with a chuckle. “Choosing who I married was the price of my Presidency, in a way.” Victor contently sighed. “Neither of us are happy and we both know it so I guess at least the feeling is mutual. Image matters, after all.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Was there anyone else you wanted to marry or be with instead?” Yuuri asked curiously. “S-sorry for being so nosy I’m just… I’ve never heard of anything like this before.” Yuuri said with a fluster of embarrassment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. I hadn’t really had a chance to think about it though. There might be now, but it’s too late for that, isn’t it?” Just as Yuuri was about to speak again, the car pulled up outside the White House. Victor glanced out of the window as the car came to a halt. Yuuri made haste to unbuckle and grab his things before opening the door and stepping out, suit immediately soaked again by rain. “Drive safely.” Victor bade. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>———————————————————————</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said you’d be home by seven.” Anastasia mumbled when Victor got home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not a nine to five job, Nastya…” Victor singsonged in irritation. “I had to read through the new bill proposals. I only got through one so I have to get as many done as possible so I can see what needs to take priority.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could have called to say you’d be late.” She grumbled. “I didn’t save you any dinner.” She mumbled. “I didn’t know when you’d be back or if you’d even be coming home.” Anastasia sighed heavily, cupping her mug of tea between her hands as Victor stripped off his drenched coat, hanging it up to dry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright.” Mumbled Victor, removing his suit jacket and loosening his tie. “I went with Yuuri to dinner.” He informed, running his fingers through his drenched hair. Anastasia sourly huffed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you can stay or dinner with your PA but not for lunch with me?” Anastasia’s nose crinkled with disgust as Victor shrugged, undoing the buttons to his waistcoat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I kept him late when he didn’t need to be. It’s only fair. I’m going for a shower.” Victor didn’t allow the conversation to continue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Vitya--!” He bypassed Anastasia and headed for the laundry room to pick up a towel and something to sleep in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Yuuri finally got home, he was soaked to the bone with rain, shivering as he quickly stripped out of his work clothes and into something warmer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dinner with Victor had been… oddly comfortable. Yuuri thought it would be strange at first. After all, they had never been in each other’s company out of work hours. Yuuri had never seen Victor in such a casual state, with laughter and smiles, and if he thought his </span>
  <em>
    <span>President </span>
  </em>
  <span>aura was attractive, well… well this new, </span>
  <em>
    <span>casual </span>
  </em>
  <span>Victor, was ten times more charming. Yuuri groaned as he buried his face in his pillow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not only was Victor physically attractive and powerful, but he was kind hearted and generous too. Yuuri hated to admit it, but that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely </span>
  </em>
  <span>what Yuuri would be looking for in a romantic interest. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>god, </span>
  </em>
  <span>this man was married! Yuuri had to stop his thoughts there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then again… Victor had said they were not happily married. In fact, they were far from it. He didn’t even want to marry her. But still. That didn’t change the fact that he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>married </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Yuuri had to stop his horny thoughts right there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Victor’s marriage wasn’t even the main problem— what a scandal it would be if the President was sleeping with his personal assistant, adding a wife— </span>
  <em>
    <span>the First Lady— </span>
  </em>
  <span>into the equation would just make for a hot mess. Yuuri could tell that tonight was going to be one of those nights where he’d make up unrealistic scenarios in his head to help him sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>———————————————————————</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dinner somehow had become a regular occurrence. Normally once or twice a week when Victor worked late and required Yuuri’s help (though really, he just enjoyed Yuuri’s company), and Yuuri found his ‘high school crush’ getting deeper and deeper, until the point where Yuuri’s heart would skip a beat every time Victor so much as smiled at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri found himself infatuated by the older man. Victor had showed off his more relaxed side recently, even at work, though, normally when they were alone. As if he were physically able to relax. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you going home this evening?” Asked Yuuri as Victor paid the bill. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ahh, no. I’m staying so we can head out early to Vegas tomorrow.” Yuuri nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The flight is scheduled for eight a.m, so we need to be at the hangar for seven thirty. The car will be waiting for us at seven.” Yuuri informed as they drove back to the White House. “First meeting is at noon, the second at four, and then a conference at six.” Victor nodded. “And then dinner at the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Four Seasons</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as you requested yesterday.” Victor smiled at the mention of </span>
  <em>
    <span>dinner. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perfect.” They got out of the car and parted ways. “Good night, Yuuri. Drive safely.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good night, Victor.” Yuuri turned away to head to his car. It was already getting close to ten, and he had to be at work for six a.m. That meant he literally had to get home and sleep as soon as possible, and it was times like these when Yuuri was thankful he’d been fed already. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>———————————————————————</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, sir.” Yuuri greeted as the car door opened for Victor to climb in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Yuuri.” Smiled Victor before turning his attention to the driver. “To the hangar, please.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ll have no time for lunch when we land.” Yuuri said. “As I reminded you yesterday, your first meeting is at twelve, so right to business as soon as we land.” Victor sighed tiredly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The flight to Vegas seemed to fly by in a flash when Victor spent most of it staring at his assistant, not that Yuuri had noticed. He was exceptionally pretty, Victor had noticed, with eyes that glittered beautifully with hope and long, cow lashes that fluttered. Victor couldn’t help but smile-- he hadn’t noticed until recently that Yuuri was truly alluring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as they had landed, Yuuri sent a text message to Anastasia on Victor’s behalf to tell him they had landed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor found himself unable to stop staring at Yuuri, his glance flitting to the younger man every few sentences. He just looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>ethereal. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The other week Yuuri had asked him if he’d ever had anyone he was interested in, or wished to have pursued had he not married Anastasia, and the answer was </span>
  <em>
    <span>no. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But now, if Yuuri had asked that today, the answer might be </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was strange… he’d worked with Yuuri for four years, yet it was only in the recent few weeks that they’d gotten to know each other. Working late alone and having dinner together had given them time out of their working day to become familiar with each other personally, as well as professionally. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri was interesting. Everything he had to say about his personal life Victor was willing to listen to. He was sweet and passionate about his interests— </span>
  <em>
    <span>dogs especially, </span>
  </em>
  <span>which, of course, Victor was incredibly delighted to hear. Victor found himself never even thinking once about Anastasia when he was with Yuuri. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even today’s incredibly exhausting and busy day had not warranted a single thought about his wife. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had been a long, long day, their last conference of the day running way longer than they had anticipated. Their original plan had been to have dinner before retiring for the night, however, by the time they had come out of the meeting, they had already missed their reservation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There goes our last meal of the day.” Yuuri sighed as they took the private elevator up the hotel.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m famished.” Murmured Victor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you want I can call up the restaurant?” Asked Yuuri. “And see if they have another private room free for half an hour's time?” Victor shook his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We shouldn’t bother them. We missed the reservation, we can’t expect them to accommodate for us.” Silently, Yuuri nodded as they stepped out of the elevator. “If you’re up for it, we can order room service?” Yuuri glanced at him, and then smiled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” They had separate rooms, but Yuuri followed Victor to his presidential suite. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not big on hotel food, but we’re both hungry, so we can make do.” Victor said, pushing his keycard into the slot to open the door. “Make yourself comfortable.” Victor said, removing his coat and suit jacket. “We can order and eat. We haven’t eaten since this morning— I don’t know how you’re even still standing.” Yuuri chuckled sheepishly at his comment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Could say the same about you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor had to say, the hotel food wasn’t exceptional, but it sufficed. It got them filled up at least. He put his plate down, wiping his mouth on a napkin before folding it away. He watched as Yuuri indulged in a piece of sticky toffee sponge, the most delightful look on his face as he hummed with each mouthful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You must have been starving.” Mused Victor as Yuuri put down his empty bowl and wiped his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Our first and only meal was grapes and cheese on the plane.” Yuuri reminded. “Of course I was starving.” Victor was staring at him with the most thoughtful cerulean eyes, Yuuri thought he could almost get lost in them. Their gaze lingered for a moment before Yuuri’s glance shifted away. “So… I should let you sleep.” Yuuri murmured. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Victor was an impulsive man. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is </span>
  </em>
  <span>an impulsive man. And he was much more impulsive when it came to his personal life than his professional life. Sometimes that has unforeseeable consequences. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yuuri.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmh?” Yuuri turned to face him, and Victor never moved so fast. He leaned in, capturing Yuuri’s lips in a warm kiss before he could even process it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri squealed, almost jumping out of skin with surprise as Victor’s soft lips landed on his. He should push him away, he knew he should. Victor was </span>
  <em>
    <span>married, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>First Lady </span>
  </em>
  <span>at that. This couldn’t happen. But Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to stop. He raised his hand with every intention of pushing Victor away, but with the older man’s lips so warm and tender and passionate against his, he lowered his hand shakily to Victor’s waistcoat and gripped the fabric tightly, tentatively kissing back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>God, this was so wrong, but it felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>so right. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yuuri didn’t even know what to be more surprised by— the fact that Victor was kissing him, or the fact that his feelings were being reciprocated. But god, they couldn’t. Victor still had a wife, regardless of whether they loved each other or not. Their professional relationship hadn’t even crossed Yuuri’s mind. Hesitantly, he pushed Victor away, face red and solemn. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That can’t happen again.” Whispered Yuuri. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you regret it?” Victor asked quietly, biting his lip as his hands laced together in his lap. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t matter. You’re married, and your wife is the First Lady.” Yuuri shakily reminded, standing up on knees more unstable than a baby deer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to be.” Murmured Victor, brows creased as he gazed pleadingly at Yuuri, who swallowed thickly and inhaled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re still married.” Yuuri made a move to leave, but Victor quickly stood up and grasped his hand, stopping Yuuri in his tracks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You once asked me… whether there was someone else I was interested in. Someone who wasn’t Anastasia. And I said no.” Recalled Victor as Yuuri turned to look pitifully at him. “Ask me again.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t have wanted to know the answer, but he did. Yuuri needed to know if now, that had changed. “Could you see yourself with someone else? Someone who isn’t Anastasia?” Victor didn’t even hesitate to answer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Yuuri should have left. He should have pulled his hand from Victor’s grasp and left. But he couldn’t. Not without having confirmation that it was him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You.” Victor answered, gripping his hand tighter. Yuuri felt his throat tighten and his heart swell with joy. But that joy quickly deflated when he thought about all of the things that were eternally bound to keep them apart. “Do you feel that way for me, Yuuri?” Yuuri should say </span>
  <em>
    <span>no. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He should reject Victor while he still can. But he couldn’t. He could never deny those feelings, not when he was asked so directly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” It came out in the weakest, most uncertain whisper. Yuuri pulled his hand away, out of Victor’s grip. “But we can't have this Victor, we just can’t.” Yuuri’s head whipped away, too terrified to even look at Victor. “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If come November…” Victor began, “I get voted out of office, would you take me?” He asked, heart thumping wildly in his chest. “Would you have me then?” Victor had never felt so anxious and afraid to lose something— </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his life. “I’d be able to leave her.” Yuuri’s head turned back around, and Victor could tell he was fighting back tears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And what if you serve another term?” Victor’s lips pursed, and he couldn’t answer. “There are some things we just can’t have. Some things even someone as powerful as you can’t have. You said it yourself… marriage was the price of your presidency.” Yuuri was about to hurt them both. “Let’s pretend this never happened.” Yuuri’s fists clenched and his chest tightened, heart aching and pained, but this was the right thing to do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Victor felt his heart drop in his chest. “Wait, Yuuri—“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Victor.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>———————————————————————</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor stopped asking Yuuri to stay late with him. He stopped asking Yuuri to dinner. In fact, all conversations that were not work related ceased. Victor went home to his wife every weekend as promised— and on time— and every time she had something to moan about instead of retaliating with a witty comment, he just ignored her. He didn’t have the energy to argue with her when he spent so much time and energy arguing with himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“More proposals have come in, sir.” Yuuri informed, with a stack of papers in his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just leave them on the desk.” Victor murmured without even looking up at his personal assistant. With an anguished sigh, Yuuri put them down on his table and promptly made his leave. Victor glanced at the stack as the door clicked shut. He really would need help— or lots of time— to get through these, and he couldn’t exactly ask Yuuri. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he dedicated his nights to working through them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuuri could barely look at him. Their kiss still stung on his lips weeks later and every time he so much as thought about it, his nose would go red and his throat would swell and his eyes would begin to water. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey— is something the matter?” Phichit, Victor’s Chief of Staff, and Yuuri’s good friend, asked when he caught Yuuri coming out of Victor’s office. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I fucked up.” Yuuri bit his tongue, fighting back tears as he clenched his fist. Phichit sighed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My office. Now. We’re going to talk about this.” Wordlessly, Yuuri followed Phichit to his office. Phichit held open the door and Yuuri stepped inside, Phichit closing the door behind them. “What happened?” Yuuri was reluctant to say, but he needed to get this off his chest otherwise it would eat at him for years to come. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I accompanied the President to Vegas a few weeks back.” He began. “We’d worked late a few times to get through all the bills and proposals that had been coming through, and because it was past my work hours Victor treated me to dinner too.” Explained Yuuri, squeezing his hands as he tried to keep himself together. “Victor kissed me.” He blurted. “That night in Vegas.” Phichit’s eyes blew wide with shock, mouth dropping open, but no words came out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told him that we couldn’t do this, now matter how I felt. He’s married, and I could never interfere with that, regardless of whether or not he and the First Lady were happy.” Phichit passed Yuuri the box of tissues and he gratefully pulled one, dabbing his eyes dry and blowing his nose. “And now we don’t have friendly chats anymore. We don’t speak out of work hours. Our conversations are nothing more than work related. He won’t even look at me.” Yuuri inhaled shakily, blowing his nose again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now I can’t even look at him because it hurts so much to know he won’t be looking at me the way I want him to.” Yuuri bitterly scoffed. “I should suck it up and get over it.” Mumbled Yuuri with a huff and a sheepish smile, chastising himself for falling in love with someone he couldn’t have. “Some things just aren’t meant to be and… I guess this is one of them.” Yuuri stood up and tossed his tissue in the bin. “Sorry for wasting your time.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yuuri, wait.” Phichit stopped Yuuri as he was about to leave. “You can’t help how you feel. It hurts, but soon it won’t. You’ve got this.” Yuuri wearily smiled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for listening to me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know you can come back any time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuuri returned to his own office shortly after. He cried to himself, letting it all out. He went through a whole box of tissues and then some, soaking them all with tears and snot before tossing the squares in the bin. Once it was all out of his system, Yuuri got back to work. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri never intended to fall in love. Especially not with the President of all people. Luck never has been on his side, and this just proved it. There were so many times when Yuuri considered quitting his job. But then he knew he’d truly never see Victor again. The only time he’d see the man was on television, or from afar at his campaigns. Yuuri couldn’t quit. It would hurt even more to never see Victor again than it would to see him every day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>———————————————————————</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Months went by, and Yuuri was still on Victor’s mind twenty four seven. Knowing he couldn’t have him only made his feelings of longing grow stronger. Anastasia could see something was on his mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been very quiet the last few months.” She said one evening when he came home. “You’ve been home on time every weekend like we agreed, you’ve barely argued back to me. So what’s the matter?” Victor didn’t think she really cared, to be honest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing.” Lied Victor, hanging up his coat and suit jacket. She studied him harder, eyeing her husband up and down as he trudged around their penthouse. And then it clicked. His sluggishness, his fatigue, his constant low mood… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve fallen in love.” Anastasia said observantly. Victor stiffened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter.” Victor didn’t confirm or deny, and he also didn’t further elaborate. Silently, he headed to the bathroom for a shower. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Part of Victor wondered why Yuuri hadn’t quit his job. He could see the pain that taunted Yuuri’s eyes, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. As a result, Victor tried not to look at him. Tried not to gaze so longingly and so pleadingly in order to spare Yuuri the pain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He so badly missed dinners with Yuuri, late nights with Yuuri, lighthearted and relaxed conversations with Yuuri. Victor felt like he was being forced back into that </span>
  <em>
    <span>President </span>
  </em>
  <span>shell again. The one where everything he said and did and every move he made had to be with some form of professionalism. The one where he couldn’t open up and vent about his day or laugh with someone or look at pictures of dogs with someone. Victor felt like he was suffocating. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d never felt like that before. He’d been so used to this cage before, and then Yuuri came along and freed him from it. Now, Victor was being forced back into that cage and now that he’d experienced freedom from it, he felt so claustrophobic. That was when Victor made a decision. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Victor couldn’t run for President again in November. He’d sacrifice it all to be with Yuuri. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>———————————————————————</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next day, Victor found himself trying to pluck up the courage to keep Yuuri in his office, even for a moment longer. But he hadn’t even figured out what he wanted to say yet. He had a whole list of things he needed to say-- the fact that he had no intentions of taking part in the Presidential race for a second time, the fact that he had every intention to leave his wife as soon as possible, the fact that he still </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yuuri, and there was nothing more painful than pretending otherwise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... the financial statements for your campaign are in this stack here, along with a list of sponsors. If you need anything else, just let me know.” Yuuri turned on his heels, head dipped down to leave. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yuuri.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” Yuuri turned back around, and Victor could have sworn this was the first time they’d looked-- </span>
  <em>
    <span>properly-- </span>
  </em>
  <span>at each other in months. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m dropping out.” Victor said. “The race ends here. For me.” Murmured Victor. Yuuri’s mouth dropped open, as if to speak, but no words came out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“O-oh.” Yuuri swallowed thickly. “Then I’ll get the documents prepared for your official drop out.” Yuuri turned away to leave again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yuuri.” This time, Yuuri didn’t turn back around. Tentatively, Victor got out of his chair and went over, stepping way closer than he’d dared over the last couple of months. Victor reached for Yuuri’s hand, but Yuuri flinched. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t do this to me.” Murmured Yuuri, biting the inside of his cheek. “I’ve worked so hard to keep myself together.” But Victor, once again, reached for his hand and this time, grabbed it, squeezing and rubbing his thumb over the space between Yuuri’s thumb and forefinger. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I once told you marriage was the price of my presidency.” Victor recalled. “I want a refund.” Hesitating, Yuuri turned around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You… what?” Victor sucked in a breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If having this life, having this career means I can’t have you, then I don’t want it.” Victor said, determined, and more certain than ever. Yuuri felt tears well in his eyes as he bit his lip. “Unless you can tell me, truly, that you feel nothing for me.” Yuuri let out a soft sob because </span>
  <em>
    <span>god, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Victor was so persistent. But that was something that just made Yuuri fall for him even harder. Yuuri couldn’t ever lie about his feelings for Victor. “Please, Yuuri… say something?” Pleaded Victor, gazing at Yuuri with the softest, most hopeful eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>I couldn’t say no.” Yuuri whispered. “But I still think this isn’t right…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait for me, Yuuri.” Victor begged. “After my term is over, when my wife and I can finally separate, let me come back for you.” Yuuri looked so nervous and scared, holding his breath and biting his tongue. “Half a year. That’s how long is left of my term.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How do I know you’ll still want me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How could I not want someone as beautiful as you?” Victor’s hand reached to cup his face, thumb stroking his cheek. Timidly, Yuuri blushed, a dusty rose colour blooming over his cheeks at Victor’s compliment. He nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Yuuri croaked, and Victor let out the biggest sigh of relief, instinctively pulling Yuuri in for a warm embrace. Yuuri gasped, but quickly relaxed as Victor’s hand slid through his hair and caressed his locks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know I’m asking a lot.” Victor murmured into his hair. “But I hope it’ll be worth it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>———————————————————————</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took less than an hour for word to get around that Victor had dropped out of the presidential race, months and months of preparation and campaigning having gone down the drain. But honestly, it felt freeing. It didn’t take long for headlines and newspapers to highlight and report on it, with speculations as to why he’d dropped out. His twitter, both personal and professional, was bombarded with tweets of disappointment or joy, questions and conspiracies and most likely smear campaigns from other parties too. Despite all of that, though, this was truly the best decision Victor had ever made. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It did mean, however, there was a lot of paperwork. Even months later, the paper work didn’t stop. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yuuri.” Victor said as Yuuri put the stacks of paper on his desk. “Can you keep me company while I do these?” Asked Victor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh-- I… I umm…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll treat you for dinner after. For taking up your time.” Victor watched Yuuri’s eyes widen with alarm, and he realised what Yuuri must have been thinking. “Not a date. It’s not a date.” He clarified. “Just me making sure you’ve had something to eat to say thank you for your time.” Victor said. “Like we did before, please?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri’s throat went dry as he swallowed thickly. He thought about it. He really did love this man, and even though they couldn’t show that to each other, it didn’t mean they had to actively avoid each other, either. “Okay.” Yuuri nodded, a timid smile on his face, and Victor felt his heart lurch as Yuuri took a seat on the other side of the desk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor could feel Yuuri’s gaze on him as they worked. Every so often, Yuuri would glance at Victor before dropping his gaze back to his work, and other times, Yuuri’s gaze would linger. They were silent, but it was the most comforting silence Victor had ever experienced, with only the scratching of his pen audible. Yuuri too, was working away on the other side of the desk, sorting out the other affairs that came with Victor dropping out of the presidential race. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want a coffee, Victor?” Yuuri asked, looking up from his paperwork.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ahh, yes, please.” Victor gratefully smiled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Two creams and a sugar?” Victor went to the second drawer of his desk and pulled out two instant coffee sachets. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, please. Here, use these.” Yuuri nodded and took the sachets, leaving the office to make coffee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri let out a deep breath when he closed the office door. Being in the room alone with Victor sent his heart soaring. He wanted to reach across and grab Victor’s hand and squeeze it. But they couldn’t. Not yet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Only three months until the end of Victor's term.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>———————————————————————</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the final day of his presidency, Victor reiterated to Yuuri that he’d be back for him. With divorce papers in one hand and a bouquet of roses in the other. He hadn’t a plan beside that, he didn’t need one. All he needed was to know Yuuri would still wait for him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri hadn’t heard from Victor after that last day in office. And when one month passed by, Yuuri began to have his doubts, wondering if perhaps he should let go of that thread of hope Victor had given him. But two months later, it caused a huge scandal when the former President and First Lady separated under “unexpected circumstances”. Yuuri, while he’d seen it coming, was still just as shocked as everyone else. Not because the former President had divorced, but because he really did have every intention of leaving his wife.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That evening, when Victor’s divorce papers came through, he found himself standing outside Yuuri’s front door, roses in one hand, and papers in the other. They hadn’t spoken in months, so when Victor found himself on Yuuri’s doorstep, a nervous pit began to grow in his stomach. His worst fear would be knocking, and someone who wasn’t Yuuri was going to open the door. Swallowing thickly, Victor rang the doorbell. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He heard a shuffle, then the lock clicked, and Victor felt his heart race. He nervously clutched the roses, teeth gritted and brow creased as he waited with bated breath for the door to open. And when it did, the most beautiful man stood before him, mouth agape, as if he were surprised to see Victor. Blue glasses adorned his eyes, locks of jet black hair framing his face as gorgeous hazel eyes sparkled joyously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“V-Victor…” Yuuri’s voice was a mere whisper, croaky and broken, as if he were about to cry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I came back.” Victor sheepishly smiled. “With roses and divorce papers, like I promised.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri sucked in a shaky breath, tears welling in his eyes as his nose turned read. His throat tightened and his heart thumped as he stared at the man, dressed the most casual Yuuri has ever seen him yet still, he managed to look just as alluring, just as enchanting as when he donned the suits of the President. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought you’d forgotten.” Whispered Yuuri as he pulled Victor in, wrapping his arms around his waist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How could I forget about someone as beautiful as you?” Cooed Victor sweetly as Yuuri pulled him through the door and looped his arms around his neck, burying his face in his shoulder as he inhaled the scent of Victor’s cologne. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“God, I missed you…” Sighed Yuuri as Victor pushed the front door closed with his back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As of today, February second, I am a divorced man.” Victor smiled fondly. “I mean… I’m waiting for angry phone calls from my father but he can’t reach me if I turn my phone off, right?” He chuckled, to which Yuuri tearfully nodded. “So… now that I’m single, and you’re not my personal assistant, will you go out with me? Properly? And hold my hand, go on dates with me, cause another scandal about the former President being gay, make that an even bigger sandal when they all find out you were my PA…” Yuuri spluttered his laughter at that. Dating Victor would come with a lot of baggage. But it was baggage Yuuri certainly had space for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kiss me.” Victor, naturally, took that as a yes. He put down the roses, put down his divorce papers, and curled his arms fully around the younger man. He pulled them hip to hip, chest to chest, until their foreheads bumped and their noses brushed. Yuuri’s eyes fluttered shut and Victor kissed him. With far more enthusiasm than he’d ever had for his ex-wife. Yuuri’s heart fluttered. This was what dreams felt like. His lips burned with their kiss and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh, </span>
  </em>
  <span>it felt so right, just like the first time they’d kissed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Victor’s lips were soft and plump, and Yuuri couldn’t help but tangle his hand in Victor’s hair, feeling the silky smooth locks between his fingers. Yuuri wanted everything Victor was willing to give him. He’d take it all and more. They’d waited months for this perfect moment, where they could kiss without repercussions, where they could embrace without fear, and Yuuri had never wanted to hold on so tight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve waited months to do that.” Victor murmured against his lips when they parted, Yuuri panting and breathless, cheeks flustered and pink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kiss me again.” Victor chuckled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Demanding, aren’t we?” But who was Victor to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>no? </span>
  </em>
  <span>They’d both endured months of hardship for this and finally, they were within each other’s grasp. Victor had never felt more at home. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you enjoyed this chapter please leave me a comment, it would mean the world to me  😩💖</p><p>Don't forget to check out my <a href="https://twitter.com/CarnivalMirai">Twitter!</a> where I post teasers and announcements!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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